In Blood and In Fire
by pleasant-hell
Summary: We're a small group of survivors. We're all members of the McKinley High glee club. We had just gotten back from -static- when our bus was attacked. If there's anyone out there who can help us, please contact us -static- We're just a bunch of kids...


_This is Rachel Berry, transmission number one. We're a small group of survivors. We're all members of the McKinley High glee club. We had just gotten back from **static** when our bus was attacked. If there's anyone out there who can help us, please contact us…**static**….we're just a bunch of kids…**static**..._

Rachel hated the night shift. More than anything. She hated the creaks and the groans of the building. She hated the shadows that flickered through the windows. She especially hated the occasional unearthly moans that came from the street below.

She adjusted her grip on the shotgun in her hand. The barrel was pointed at the ground as sneakers moved silently across the floor.

Yeah, she hated the night shift.

The building she was patrolling was an old building in downtown. The first floor used to be a drug store. The floor above was being renovated and turned into condos. Rachel wasn't sure who would really want to live in downtown Lima. It was a sturdy building and it didn't take them long to fortify it. Everyone brought something to the table when they first arrived back into the infested town.

They ended up in this building because Finn crashed their bus out front swerving to avoid a group of what he thought were pedestrians. They turned out to be zombies that slowly inched closer as they all pulled themselves from the wreckage.

Puck was the only one to jump into action when he saw the oozing wounds and gaping mouths and pushed everyone into the nearest storefront - Whitfield's Pharmacy. Quinn found the staircase in the back. The staircase lead up to condos littered with construction materials and down to a gated garage with two cars parked in it.

Puck and Santana conferred for a few minutes before directing the boarding up of windows and the securing of doors. Puck had the expertise and Santana took charge, directing the group to get what Puck said needed to be done as quickly as possible.

For the first few days, they lived off of the candy bars and bags of chips in the store because they were sure someone would come for them. But after a week no one did.

Santana had found a ladder to the roof the third day and that was where she stood and watched the zombies. If the wind was right, they couldn't detect her so she could watch them for hours. Their patterns, their movements…everything.

On the roof is where she, Puck, Mike, and Quinn decided that someone needed to head out for supplies. Mike argued that their best bet was to stay stationary so if someone did come back looking for survivors, they wouldn't accidentally miss each other. After a long talk about the pros and cons of staying where they were, they decided to stay in the drug store building.

So here she was, walking up and down the hallways of the second floor. She didn't really have to though. There was only one way into the second floor, a point of debate between the club. There was a light rigged up to a solar panel pointed at the staircase – the only place anyone could get in. Rachel always felt bad because the more battle ready survivors always patrolled downstairs. But last time she tried that, she blew a hole through the middle of a display case that she had bumped into and scared the hell out of everyone else in the process.

She'll never forget that night. Santana was the first one down the stairs, machete in one hand and a pistol in the other hand. Followed by Finn with a shotgun. It took a moment for them to realize that there was nothing downstairs but Rachel and a broken display case.

_This is Mike Chang, transmission number eight. If there's anyone out there…please **static**…contact us. We're in the **static**…We're okay for now, but **static**._

It was decided that Santana would lead Mike and Sam out into the world outside. Everyone was upset but knew it needed to be done. They needed supplies. They needed food and weapons.

They took a few tools from the construction site to defend themselves, but made sure to leave enough for the others just in case.

Sam found the keys for one of the vehicles downstairs so he, Mike, and Santana piled into the large SUV. They were all pleasantly surprised to find that there was almost a full tank of gas in it. Puck stood at the entrance of the garage with a sledgehammer. He pulled open the gate for them, giving the vehicle a solemn nod as it passed before closing the iron gate behind them.

They had a plan of where to go. First, to the sporting goods store. On the way there, they decided that they'd hit the guns first and make a sweep of the store second. They had a few run-ins with some stragglers in the door, promptly taken care of by the first shotgun Sam picked up and the machetes that were now Santana's favorite weapons.

The new cache of weapons, made the trip to the grocery store that much easier. The grocery store was ransacked. All purified water shelves were empty. The panic when the zombies started to spread must have sent terrified people to the grocery store. They managed to fill of the back of the SUV with food. It was mostly canned things and pasta because all of the things that could go bad had already started to do so.

Just as they were about to head back to their base, Santana made them make one last stop. At the gardening store, she grabbed seeds, soil, and water hoses, as well as some books about growing things.

When they got back, a few people stocked the almost finished kitchen and a few helped categorize the weapons. Everyone was picking their favorites, matching ammo with caliber, and familiarizing themselves with the guns. Sam gave a crash course in gun safety and operation. Artie and Tina were in charge of getting a ham radio Mike found up and running.

After everything was unloaded, Puck asked what the gardening things were for. Santana grabbed the books that she had gotten on the trip and handed one to Brittany and one to Rachel. She told them that they were going to be gardening on the roof.

As the days went by, they started to have real plans and real jobs for everyone. They set up a mini shooting range in the garage but didn't use it too much. It attracted unwanted zombie attention and wasted their finite supply of ammo. But on one trip out, Puck got a punching bag and some gym equipment - so next to their shooting range was a gym. It was mostly free weights and punching bags, but it was something to occupy their down time and keep them in shape.

Brittany and Rachel had since transformed into botanists. They were growing all kinds of things on the roof. There was a tarp draped over a quarter of the roof, shielding some of the plants from direct sunlight and a small makeshift greenhouse in the corner for the more finicky plants. Their boxes that held the plants were made out of the leftover construction materials and what had been retrieved during supply gathering missions.

Santana, dressed in her tight, worn jeans, brown leather boots, and brown leather jacket, climbed up the ladder and spotted the two girls moving around the plants, doing their daily routines. She smiled and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. To be honest, she had only put them in charge to keep Brittany's mind occupied - especially when Santana left the safe-house - and so Rachel wouldn't get in the way. But this small garden had become a point for pride for them. They were helping, really helping. Perhaps they were helping the most.

The garden gave everyone a sense of hope. That even if they couldn't leave, they'd have food. Sometimes people would just go up to the roof and sit amongst the green so they would have some kind of escape from the constant chaos of the second floor and the dingy first floor. It was really something beautiful in a barren dystopia.

"Good news," Santana told them as she neared. "Mercedes and Tina have figured out that canning shit, so we don't have to eat everything in a few days."

Quinn happened to be up on the roof, just meandering around the plants. "So no more tomato sandwiches and spaghetti with tomato sauce and tomato soup?"

They all smiled and Santana shook her head, "Not unless you want it."

Brittany walked over to Santana and slipped her arms around Santana's waist. Santana put one arm around Brittany's shoulders, pressing a kiss to the blonde's soil streaked cheek. "How are the strawberries coming?"

"I think we finally have one," Brittany beamed. She took Santana's hand and pulled her into the greenhouse. She showed Santana the tiny plant that was starting to grow. Brittany looked it over, "We need to find a way to freeze things though."

"I'm working on it," Santana smoothed out her hair. Truthfully, she was. She took on every project that they were faced with. She accepted help, but obsessed about things until they were resolved. This freezer thing had been on her mind for the past few days since Brittany brought it up.

Santana rubbed Brittany's back, "I have to go out. Do you need anything?"

Brittany gave her a pouty look. "I don't want you to go."

"I know," Santana pulled Brittany into her. "But I have to help Sam. Why don't you send out the transmission while we're gone?"

Brittany nodded, still not happy that Santana was leaving. She dipped her head down and kissed her girlfriend. "I love you."

"I love you too," Santana answered.

Brittany held Santana hard against her, squeezing her tight. "Just come back okay?"

"I promise," Santana nodded.

_Um, my name is Brittany Pierce. Transmission number ten. I don't know why it matters anymore. We send out a transmission each day in the **static** so I guess this is day ten. We're okay I guess. It gets cold at night now and we don't have enough gas to run any heaters…if there's anyone else out there… besides the zombies….that'd be awesome if you could find us. **static**_

It was almost two a.m. when Santana heard the footsteps on the stairs. She drew her machete out of the sheath and held it up, ready to strike.

"I thought it was Brittany's turn for night watch," Mercedes said from the stairs.

Santana took a deep breath, lowering her machete. "She had a bad day. It's…her sister's birthday." It hurt her heart to think of her girlfriend who was lying in their bedroom, sandwiched between Tina and Quinn, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Oh," Mercedes nodded.

"What about you?" Santana asked, sheathing her machete in the holster strapped to her back.

Mercedes shrugged, "I just can't sleep."

They stood in silence for a moment, both listening to the sound of rotting skin dragging across the pavement outside. Mercedes shuddered and finally spoke, "Do you think they got out? Our families?"

Santana took a deep breath, "It looks like it. Quinn and I drove by everyone's houses and all the cars were gone. The important things in your house looked like they had been packed up." She kicked at the ground, "Everyone is gone."

"Why don't we just leave?" Mercedes asked.

"We don't know how far out the zombies go," Santana shook her head, "We don't know where everyone else is. They could be just outside of Lima or outside of Ohio or Canada."

Mercedes nodded again. She walked over to the chalkboard where they had taken to making lists of things they needed so they could get everything on their outings. She picked up a little rock that they were using to write on the board. She wrote out 'clothes pins'.

Santana nodded, placing that in her mental list.

"Do you think Brittany and Rachel would mind if I put up a clothes line on the roof?" Mercedes asked, replacing the rock and leaning against the wall.

Santana shook her head, "I don't think so. I mean, I know Britt wouldn't and Rachel would probably be happy to have clean clothes."

Mercedes smiled, "Yeah. We're all starting to smell a little funky."

Santana chuckled.

"Well, I'm going to try to get some sleep," Mercedes stated, "Be careful with those." Her gestured to the machetes strapped to Santana's back.

Santana smirked, "Don't worry, I think I got it."

After watching Mercedes disappear back toward the bedrooms, Santana did a quick sweep of the first floor before silently climbing the ladder onto the roof. It was a chilly night as she threw open the makeshift hatch that Finn had put over the hole in the roof to keep precipitation out. She saw another figure standing outside. Initially, she made a reach for her machete, but dropped her hand when Rachel turned to her in the light of the full moon. There was a rifle in her hand, the barrel and suppressor emitting steam against the cold air

"What are you doing?" Santana asked before she stepped close enough to see the tears in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Rachel wiped her face. "I just…I'm never going to get any good at this. I'm completely useless." She shook the rifle in her hand. "If something does happen, I can't help. I'll just sit to the side, twiddling my thumbs and humming Streisand's Greatest Hits."

Santana looked Rachel over before nodding. "C'mon. Show me what you got. I still suck with the rifles and I'm not fantastic with the handguns." She walked with Rachel to the edge of the roof and bumped shoulders with her. "You're awesome with a shotgun. Just ask that display case downstairs."

Rachel chuckled and shook her head. "I swear I heard something."

Santana gestured out to the street and pointed to the small park across the street. "Shoot one of those streetlamps."

Rachel looked at Santana like she was insane. Then she remembered that it wasn't illegal to shoot things when there was no one to enforce the nonexistent laws. She brought the gun up to her shoulder like Sam had taught her. She looked through the scope and squeezed the trigger.

Santana blinked. Glass had shattered across the street. She looked next to her, "See? You hit it."

Rachel looked up and sighed, "I wasn't aiming for that one."

Santana put her arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Listen, tomorrow Quinn can give you a one on one on how she shoots. She's a badass with a rifle."

Rachel nodded and curled into Santana. "Thank you Santana."

"No problem," Santana stated, awkwardly petting Rachel's head.

_Uh, hi, I'm Sam Evans. Transmission number fourteen. If anyone is out there - anyone - come to us. Maybe we can help each other. If **static** camp somewhere. At least I hope so. Anyone. Please. **Static**._

It was widely touted that Sam got the first zombie kill in the sporting goods store.

That wasn't true, and only one person knew that. No one wondered what happened to Mr. Schue after he'd been bitten when they got back into town. Everyone figured that he'd wondered off in search of food or something. He was on the back of the bus when it crashed and all the doors and windows broke off so it would have been easy for him to escape.

Santana saw him start to limp after them. His moans were drawing attention to them. It wasn't an easy choice, but she had made it swiftly. There on the back of the upturned bus, Santana used a mangled rail to make the first kill.

"This is bullshit!" Burt looked up at the young man was thrown into the cell next to him. When the door was locked, the young man banged on the bar. "This is bullshit! You have to let me out! My sister's in there!"

The guard just walked away, leaving the young man in the cell with Burt. The young man paced the length of the cell back and forth, completely fuming, occasionally hitting the bars as he walked past.

"Hey," Burt looked up at him, getting the boy's attention. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"I have to get out!" the boy yelled, "My sister, she's still in Lima."

"My sons are out there. Believe me, I understand. They threw me in here because I was trying to get back." Burt stood and nodded. The Lima refugee camp and impromptu military base had a strict no one leaves policy. There's a rigorous screening process before one can even enter. But once you're in, no matter what, you're stuck. And attempts to leave result in being thrown in a cell. "You heard the transmissions too?"

"My mom has a radio next to her bunk." The young man nodded, readjusting his jeans. "My sister's still out there."

"There have only been three transmissions so far," Burt put his hands in his pockets and thought. "Two girls and Rachel doesn't have any siblings…you're Brittany's brother?"

He shook his head, "Brittany's my sister's girlfriend. But they go everywhere together. There's no way that she's not there with Brittany."

"Santana?" Burt asked.

The young man nodded trying not to look as helpless as he felt. "I have to get out of here. She can hold her own, but this is…unreal."

"What's your name son?" Burt asked, putting his hand on the boy's muscle shirt clad shoulder.

He ran a hand over the stubble on his head. "Armando."

"Well, we're going to get out of here," Burt told him, lowering his voice and checking to see if any of the guards were looking. "We just need a plan."

_Finn Hudson. Transmission number...what number? Oh yeah. Transmission number **static**. I think we're doing okay now. I mean as good as we can. We could definitely use some help. We're **static**. We're just a bunch of kids. **Static**._

Sam hopped from the hood of one car to the hood of another, a rifle in his hands and a shotgun on his back. "How much longer are we going to be here?" He raised the rifle, took aim and shot.

"Dude, this is where we're coming for gas from now on," Finn smirked up at him. He looked down at the short hose that he had in the gas tank of a beat up old car and the gas can in his hand that was slowly filling up, "It's so much easier than trying to work the pumps at the gas stations." He glanced around at all the abandoned cars, filling and overflowing off of the main highway out of town.

Santana followed Brittany closely, watching her and making sure there were no zombies anywhere near her. They were going through the things in the cars, looking for anything that could help them.

"What am I looking for?" Sam asked, hopping onto the roof of a truck and dropping another zombie with one shot.

"Big trucks. We need radio parts," Finn called back.

Santana added, "Also, eighteen wheelers. Shoot a hole in the back before you open it. You remember what happened last time."

Sam nodded. Yeah he remembered. Puck opened the back of a truck and was almost a group of zombies' lunch. He was lucky Quinn was there. She blew two of them away allowing Puck to use his trusty baseball bat to beat the other one. However, Quinn did pepper Puck's arm with BBs. After Brittany removed the BBs from his arm with the precision learned from four summers volunteering at an animal hospital, Santana locked him in the building next door to the drug store overnight to make sure he wasn't infected. It turned out he wasn't infected, but he was pissed because she forgot to give him blankets.

Brittany and Santana continued their walk through the sea of parked cars. Most of the doors to the cars were open so it was easy to check inside. Some people decided to lock their cars for whatever reason. That wasn't a problem because Santana was carrying a shotgun, using the butt of the gun to break into cars that looked promising. Brittany had a large rucksack over her shoulder, tossing things into it as they went.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Brittany sighed when Santana found a fresh pack of cigarettes in the glove compartment of a car and pulled the plastic wrap off of it. She pulled a lighter from her bra and lit the cigarette.

"I know," Santana answered and sincerely added, "I'm sorry." She inhaled deeply and blew a stream of smoke in the opposite direction of Brittany.

The blonde just sighed and started walking again. She had a disapproving frown on her face until she felt Santana take her hand, threading their fingers together. Even behind the reflective sunglasses, Brittany knew that Santana's eyes were begging for forgiveness. Brittany offered her a sweet smile, essentially giving Santana what she wanted.

Santana smiled back and then went back to looking around. She stopped dead when she saw an all too familiar car. Because they were holding hands, Brittany stopped too. "What-"

She was interrupted by a kiss from Santana. When the kiss was over, Brittany donned a smiled, but Santana wore a deep frown. "Listen, go back to the car. Check the backseat before you get in then close all the doors and lock them okay?"

Brittany wished she could see through Santana's sunglasses. She wanted to know what was wrong. But she trusted Santana. So she took the handgun out of the waistband of her jean shorts and walked back to their SUV by herself.

Santana made sure that Brittany made it all the way to the car before turning around. She walked up to the car that had once belonged to the Pierce family. The green Vue sat, on the inside shoulder of the highway, the front left tire in the median. The back passenger door was open. Brittany's sister's car seat was empty.

Santana took a few steps forward, out of sight from everyone else, and emptied her stomach across the pavement behind a black BMW. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Nothing thus far had made her physically ill. She had actually come up with many gory and creative ways to kill the zombies, but seeing that car seat, tilted toward the open door, got to her. She hoped to god that Brittany's family had made it out okay.

She picked up the small silver heart that was dangling against her collar. Feeling the smooth metal between her fingers soothed her. When she and Brittany gave these to each other, they had each kissed the one they were giving so they would always have part of the other with them. It seemed stupid sometimes, but times like this, she could really use the calm it afforded her.

"We have a problem!" Sam called, looking through the scope of his rifle.

Santana looked away from the Pierce car and focused her hearing. Yeah, she heard the problem. This was what she was scared of. "How far out are they?"

"About a mile," he stated.

Finn pulled the hose out of the tank that he was siphoning from. Santana ran to the car just as Brittany unlocked the doors.

"What's going on?" she asked, watching Finn turn the car on.

Sam blew his hair out of his eyes, "They're coming this way."

"How many?" Santana asked.

"Fifty or so."

"Shit," Santana hissed. "Go the long way. We don't need them knowing where we are. Once we're close enough, I'll radio Puck and have him and Quinn set up on the roof." She looked through the windows covered in chicken wire as a few of the zombies started to make their way into view.

When Artie heard the walkie-talkie come alive next to him, he snatched it up and held it to his ear. "Get static Quinn up to the roof. Ther- static shit-load. Get Puck and Quinn up static." There was nothing else after that.

Artie yelled for Puck and Quinn. Since they both were summoned, they were sure what was going on. They each grabbed a rifle, slung it over their shoulder and made their way to the ladder. Once on the roof, they both walked to the edge. They didn't see anything more than the usual two or three, walking aimlessly.

"What do you think is up?" Puck asked, surveying the horizon.

Quinn looked through the scope of her gun at the roads leading towards them.

There was a banging behind them and their guns were both turned. A startled looking Rachel looked down at the ground where she had dropped a clay pot. They both lowered their guns.

"Sorry," Quinn said awkwardly and turned back towards the street.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking off her gardening gloves and tossing them onto the closest plant covered table.

Puck turned back towards the street. He walked to the other end of the roof, looking down into the alley behind the building. "Santana wanted us up here."

"I-Is there something wrong?" Rachel asked, moving between them to look over the edge of the roof to the ground.

"I don't know," Puck shook his head, "Santana just wanted us up here."

"Do you think-" Quinn was interrupted by squealing tires on the pavement as the black SUV rounded the corner, the back wheels losing traction. The driver regained control and turned into the alleyway to speed into the garage below.

"Rach, go see what's up," Quinn told her, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel nodded and took off, climbing down the ladder as fast as she could.

Puck and Quinn stared off into the direction of where the SUV had just careened by. It was quiet for a moment, just the sound of the wind and what was happening downstairs.

Santana was on the roof a moment later, a rifle slung over her shoulder. Then Sam and Finn got up.

"Do you see anything?" Santana asked, pulling some binoculars out of a bag stashed next to the green house.

She handed the binoculars off to Quinn who looked over the street. "I don't see any…" But that's when she did.

She saw a few shadows moving. More than usual, but certainly not enough to be seriously worried about.

She handed the binoculars back to Santana. "Just three or four."

"Yes!" Finn fist pumped. "It had to be those extra three blocks I made."

Sam playfully punched him in the shoulder. "I'd be more impressed if you made those blocks on purpose and didn't get lost."

"Where's Brittany?" Finn asked.

"She went to go change. You spilled gas on both of us when you threw that gas can in the backseat." Santana stated, "Keep a watch up here okay? I'll be back up here in a few minutes."

They all nodded and she made her way down the ladder. After replacing the rifle in the cache, Santana walked the long hallway to her bedroom. She and Brittany shared the corner room. Occasionally, they shared it with Quinn, but for the most part, they had it to themselves.

When she stepped inside, she heard the shower running. The electricity was gone before they even arrived back in town, but the water had never turned off. Santana wasn't sure how that worked, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She didn't mind not having electricity other than the generators that were in the common area. She would have been livid had she not had running water.

So she stripped off her clothes and walked back to the bathroom. There was steam fogging up the frosted glass of the shower. The propane heater that was in the building was a godsend.

As she made her way to the shower door she heard a small whimper. It made her move faster, and when she opened the door she found Brittany crying.

She didn't hesitate to step under the stream of water and wrap Brittany in her arms.

"Should we take them out?" Puck asked.

Quinn raised her gun. "Why not? The only good zombie is a dead one."

"They're already dead," Puck smirked.

Quinn fired and dropped one of the zombies, "Whatever. Let's take these out. I'm ready to get out of here."

"Get out of here?" Finn asked.

Quinn lowered her gun, "Yeah. I want to leave. I think we can get out of here. Get somewhere safe."

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," Rachel shook her head. "Mike was right, what if someone comes to rescue-"

"We've been here for two weeks," Quinn looked down at her, "If someone was going to rescue us, they would have by now. We have to rescue ourselves."

"Were would we go?" Puck asked. "We don't know how far out they are or if there's anything outside of town. Or if there's anyone left."

At that argument, Quinn's shoulder's sagged. "You're right," Quinn stated. "We don't know. We should at least attempt to find out." She set her shoulders, raised her gun, and dropped another zombie.

After all the zombies in sight were dead again, the boys went back downstairs to see what Kurt was making for dinner.

"Do you really think it such a good idea?" Rachel asked, walking around the plants that she and Brittany had so carefully cultivated. "Leaving here?"

"Don't you want to know what's on the outside?" Quinn asked, leaning on one of the posts that was holding up the tarp over the plants. "Don't you want to know what happened to everyone, to our parents?"

Rachel froze, her hand hovering over a box containing basil. She looked up at Quinn. "What if there's nothing outside of here? What if it's all gone?"

"We don't know that," Quinn shook her head.

"We're fine here," Rachel stated, resuming her inspection of all the plants, "We have food and beds and hot water. We have each other."

"What about our parents? Don't you want to know?" Quinn asked quietly.

Rachel's eyes shot to Quinn and her jaw visibly clenched. "What if we do leave? We get out of here and there's nothing. We find that our parents are dead or worse, undead. What do we do then? How many of us could even handle seeing that? Santana's brother? Stacy and Stevie? Brittany's little sister? Tina's brothers? Could you honestly handle seeing your mom and sister with some horrible disease that makes them want to bite you! To infect you too!" Rachel didn't notice the tears streaming down her face and how much her voice escalated.

Quinn didn't know what to say. She just stepped up, and enveloped Rachel into her arms.

During dinner, everyone sat around a table that was built with plywood and cinderblocks. Typically, this was when they made a game plan for the next day, but the person who usually ran the discussion was silent.

"Uh, Santana?" Blaine prodded her.

She looked up from her food, "Huh?"

"I was just wondering if we were going to revisit the idea of bricking the downstairs windows," he said politely.

She shook her head to clear it. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Who thought it was a bad idea?"

"I do," Puck raised his fork. "What happens if they start coming in the back door? We'd be fucked."

"What about jumping to the roof next door?" Mike asked. "I think bricking downstairs would be a great idea, but Puck also has a point."

"That's a long jump," Artie added, dejectedly.

Tina put her hand on his forearm, "What about, like, a zip line?"

"Where would we get stuff like that?" Santana asked.

Finn took a large bite of his pasta then added, "There's a camping store by McKinley. They have a whole climbing section."

"Okay, so we brick downstairs and hook up a zip line," Santana nodded, "But I'd like to have more than one zip line. If one goes down, I don't want half of us stuck on the roof. But I guess that means we have to clear out and brick up the buildings around us."

"We could send a few people out to get the stuff and the rest of us can work on clearing out the buildings," Sam stated. "Two or three buildings?"

Everyone looked to Santana who was again staring at her food, lost in thought. Finally, she stood from the table. "I'll be right back."

Santana stood on the roof, watching the orange glow of the sunset as a cool wind blew her ponytail around. Her sunglasses were securely on her face, hiding her eyes.

A blonde emerged from the ladder and walked to Santana standing next to her. "You okay?"

Santana nodded, turning her head to look at the girl next to her.

Quinn just stood there, knowing the only way to get to Santana was time. She just looked out at the town around them. She listened for the horrifying moans of the undead, searching for some kind of food. But when she heard none, she turned back to Santana.

Santana let out a sigh as the sun touched the tallest building in the area, a nine-story bank built in the late 60s. "I saw Brittany's parents' car today. You know, where all the cars are parked on the highway out of town. I didn't think she saw it, but she did." Santana shook her head. She finally turned to look at Quinn. "I know you want to get out of here, but-"

Quinn held up her hand. "Rachel explained to me why it could be a bad idea. I do want to get out of here. I want some answers, but I understand that some of the other's aren't ready for what could come with the answers."

Santana ran her hand over her face. "I don't know." With a deep breath, she added. "It could be a good thing. I think if there were other survivors it would be worth it, but…if there's not…"

"We could always do it without anyone knowing," Quinn stated, crossing her arms and turning completely towards Santana.

Santana shook her head, "How would we do it? Just you and me? I'm all for no one knowing, but fuck if I'm going out there at night. And you're a great sniper Quinn, but I'd rather have Rachel with me for close combat."

Quinn shook her head, angered and frustrated. "I'm just talking about driving a couple miles out of town. If there's nothing we haven't seen, we turn around and come back."

"Fuck, fine," Santana brushed the stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail back. "We'll go tomorrow. At dawn. We're not going far. If we're gone too long, Brittany will freak."

"If we're gone for too long, I'll freak," Quinn stated. She tried to make Santana smile, but it wasn't working. The brunette was still deep in thought. Finally, Quinn knew that she wasn't going to get much more out of Santana. "I'm going to hit the hay. See you at dawn."

When Quinn woke up the next morning it was still dark out, but she could see one side of the sky start to light up from the cracks in the boards that covered her window. She quickly and quietly got dressed, not wanting to wake Rachel and Puck whom she occasionally shared a bed with. They were both sound asleep, Rachel still pressed against the space where Quinn once lay and Puck on his back at the far side of the bed.

When she made her way down the stairs, she stopped when Sam, sitting in the middle of the stairs, blocked her way. He heard her come down and glanced up at her before his eyes returned to Santana who was loading two shotguns in the back of the Jeep Blaine had picked up while he was out once. She threw her machetes in the back and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes.

Quinn tilted her head, "Why are you up?"

"Night watch." Then he called to Santana, "Where are you going?"

"For supplies," Santana stated.

Sam stood up and Quinn managed to slip by. He added, "I'll come with you."

"We're going for tampons," Santana faked a smile in his direction.

Sam blushed a heavy shade a red and sat back down, "Oh okay. When will you be back?"

Santana shrugged, jumping up into the driver's seat, "Early afternoon." She pushed her sunglasses up on the top of her head and gestured for the gate.

The boy hopped up and trotted over to the gate, opening it for her. She started the car as soon as Quinn was in and pulled forward until she was even with Sam. She looked at him, in the eyes, and replied, "Take care of Brittany, okay?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "Santana…"

She cut him off and pushed her sunglasses over her eyes, "I'll bring you back some chapstick." She didn't wait for him to answer before she gunned the engine and tore off.

When Sam walked back upstairs, he found Brittany sitting at the table, her knees pulled to her chest, staring at the slender rays of sun shining in through the boards across the windows onto the plywood table that had now become the central hub of their operations.

"Hey," Sam nodded awkwardly to her.

Brittany looked at him and rested her cheek on her knee. "Hi."

"Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing a granola bar and placing it on the table in front of her.

She just glanced at it before looking back at the sun hitting the table. "Santana left."

"Yeah, she went to go get," Sam cleared this throat, "Girl things."

Brittany shook her head. She remembered Santana kissing her last night thoroughly and deeply, repeating that she loved her over and over again. There was something sad about it. They made love that night, and when Brittany woke up to find Santana pulling her sneakers on, Brittany asked what was happening. Santana told her everything. She told her that they were looking for other survivors. They were going to look for their families or someone else. She told Brittany it would be dangerous, and she couldn't come. She had to stay so she was safe.

"I should have gone with her," Brittany stated. She then abruptly stood up and disappeared down the hallway. Sam put his head in his hands, trying to figure out how to make her feel better. He felt guilty for letting them go. He could have stopped them.

He ran over to the drawer where they kept the two functional walkie-talkies that they managed to salvage in one of the ransacked stores they went to. He slammed the drawer shut when he saw them both still there. They hadn't even taken a walkie-talkie.

Then he heard booted footsteps walking toward him. He looked up and saw Brittany with her boots on, her handgun of choice in its holster on her hip.

"Wait," Sam stood up, blocking her way to the stairs. "Where are you going?"

There were tears in her eyes and she gritted her teeth to choke out, "I have to go after her."

Sam shook his head, "You can't."

"I have to," her voice was desperate and angry, her eyes pleading with him.

The blonde boy put his hands on either side of the door and shook his head. "You don't even know where they went."

"I'll find her!" Brittany yelled, the tears escaping and pouring down her face. "Move!"

Sam shook his head, his voice firm. "I can't let you go."

Brittany broke at his words. She buried her face in her hands and started to crumple to the floor. Sam caught her before she made it all the way to her knees and held her against his chest as they slowly sank to the ground.

"Who's in charge around here?" Burt asked a guard as he leaned on the metal bars.

The larger guard looked around before answering, "Captain Sylvester."

"Sue Sylvester?" Burt asked, clearly surprised.

The guard nodded.

"Hey, look, I just need to talk to Captain Sylvester. Just for a minute," Burt pleaded with the guard. "We know each other. Tell her Burt Hummel wants to see her. Please."

The guards conferred before one took off.

It was dark in the cell when they heard the sound of booted footsteps on the cold concrete making their way towards them.

Sue Sylvester had always been a formidable presence, but flanked by two heavily armed guards, she was downright terrifying. Armando fought his natural instinct to take a step back. He stood firm by Burt's side, his fists clenched.

"Sue," Burt stepped forward, wrapping his calloused fingers around the unpainted steel. He lowered his voice, "I have to go in there and get my son. I know he's out there. You heard the transmissions. They're out there. My son. Brittany and Finn, Blaine-"

"And Santana," Armando added, slipping her name into the mix. He pushed forward, gripping the bars tightly.

Burt nodded, "And Santana. Quinn. They're all still in there, still alive, going through a literal living hell. They're just kids."

Sue momentarily waivered, her face slipping from the emotionless front. However, it was only a split second later when her mask slipped back into place. "I'm under strict orders not to let anyone in or out of the containment area."

"But Sue," Burt started to argue but Sue had already started her retreat into the recesses of the complex.

Santana stayed on the access road because the main highway was jammed with empty, abandoned cars. She didn't bother to look at the cars. She didn't need the feelings associated with recognizing one.

"I wish you'd slow down," Quinn said as they flew past a stop sign and Santana swerved to miss an overturned cooler in the middle of the street.

"I wish you'd shut the fuck up," Santana stated, pressing the gas pedal down harder.

Quinn just closed her eyes and imagined that she was somewhere else. "Slow down."

"No," Santana yelled. "We're going to drive out of town and you're going to see there's nothing fucking out there and I'm going to get back to the safe-house before dinner so Brittany doesn't worry. She doesn't fucking need it." Santana pulled a cigarette out of the center console and pulled a lighter out of her pocket, easily lighting it with one hand. She took a long inhale and exhaled a stream of smoke that was sucked into the wind that was flying by. The cigarette hung from her lips as she muttered, "And we're going to find her some fucking flowers too."

"How is she?" Mike asked, hopping up onto the roof where some of the group was gathered, watching Brittany numbly tend to the plants.

"She won't talk to anyone," Kurt stated, his arms crossed over his t-shirt clad chest. He turned back to look at Mike, "Rachel's taking it hard too. They're not even talking to each other."

Mike's eyes scanned the gardening area and finally noticed, Rachel standing off to the side, thoroughly studying a specific plant and making notes in a little purple book. She closed the book and walked into the greenhouse.

"And Sam and Puck," he gestured to the two boys sitting on the ground, against the edge of the roof. There was a blanket under them as they cleaned every single gun in the cache.

Mike rubbed the back of his neck, "Alright. Well, I'm going to go finish the night watch list. I'm going to leave all of them off of it for a few nights. I may need your help, tonight, just making sure no one leaves."

Kurt nodded. "Do you really think they're not coming back?"

Mike swallowed, not answering immediately. He nodded, "I hope they do. If anyone is strong headed enough to get back, it's those two."

"What do we do if they don't?" Kurt asked quietly, his eyes on Brittany who was starting her second round of plant inspection.

Mike shrugged. "We'll keep going. There's nothing else we can do."

_This is Kurt Hummel. We've lost track of the transmission numbers. I guess it doesn't matt- **static**. We're starting to run out of **static** and canned food. All the stores are basically empty. We have a garden but **static**._

"This is all your fault!" Santana yelled at Quinn as she slid out of the driver's seat.

Quinn got out of her seat as well, "I wasn't the one driving like a maniac." They met at the front passenger tire that was now completely flat.

Quinn walked back to the back of the jeep and rooted around, "Where's the spare?"

"The guys took it off so they could use it to work out," Santana kicked the flat tire, "Fucking Puckerman."

"You didn't think of that when we left?" Quinn yelled, stepping closer to Santana.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your ass right here," Santana's fists clenched.

Quinn stared at the hard face of Santana before something behind Santana caught her eye. When she was able to focus and realize what it was, her stomach dropped. She pointed over Santana's shoulder. "That's why."

When Santana turned around, her breath caught in her throat. From the maze of abandoned cars, one or two zombies started creeping out. But behind the one or two, were five or six and behind the five or six were ten or eleven more.

They were all walking towards them, most with their mouths hanging opening, the sickening stench of rotting flesh and infected wounds heralding their arrival.

"Shit!" Santana cursed and looked all around them. She grabbed her machetes, pulling the sheaths across her back and grabbing a shotgun. She pulled out Quinn's rifle and shoved it into the stationary blonde's hands, "Take out as many as you can. The ones in the front. I'll look for a car."

That kicked Quinn's ass into gear. She raised her gun while Santana ran up the small hill onto the main highway. She looked through the windows, looking for car keys. Finally she found some keys in a red Honda, but it was completely out of gas when she tried to turn it over. She huffed and got out, glancing back down at Quinn who was starting to back up as the zombies advanced on her. They were only twenty yards away.

"Fuck!" Santana muttered and ran back to the cars. She dove into the first car that had keys in it and thrust the key away from her to start the car. Then the engine of the old truck roared to life, she threw it in drive and gassed it. She didn't hesitate to drive it off of the highway, down the grassy embankment and down the access road towards Quinn who was now running away from the Jeep and the zombies.

Santana only slowed down enough for Quinn to jump into the bed of the truck before she tore off, hitting a few zombies as she took off, jostling Quinn around in the back of the truck.

"Where are you going?" Quinn yelled, but realized that Santana couldn't hear her. She knocked on the windows, finally banging on it until Santana figured out that she had to crank down the window. Quinn repeated her question.

"Not very far," Santana pointed to the gas gauge. It was in the middle of the red stripe next to the E.

"Shit," Quinn sat back in the bed of the truck and let her head lull back against the window. She looked behind them, seeing a few of the fast zombies trying to get after them. She raised her gun and picked a few off, which helped her relieve some of the tension in her chest.

She knew they were pretty far out of town and the safe-house was on the other side of the town. She at least hoped that they had enough gas to get back through the city limits.

"They should have been back by now," Puck said as he paced the length of the table. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was telling time that it was almost two in the afternoon.

Everyone, with the exception of Rachel and Brittany, were in the common room. Most were sitting around the table, but a few were sitting around the kitchen. They all watched as Puck paced around the room. Finally, he whirled on Sam, "Why did you let them go?"

"I didn't know where they were going okay?" Sam yelled back defensively.

"You're such an idiot," Puck huffed and started pacing again.

"He's not an idiot," Tina interrupted, "Lay off Puck. You're just mad that you can't help them."

"The hell I can't," he walked to the cache on the far side of the room and picked up a shotgun.

This is Noah Puckerman. Where the fuck is everyone? We can't be the only ones left. There have to be other people out there. And Static if you're out there and can hear me, either one of you, get back here. We need you back. Static.

Quinn watched her feet take each careful, purposeful step. Then she looked up at the girl walking next to her. The girl who hadn't said anything to her since the truck ran out of gas. Santana had her sunglasses over her eyes and a red bandana covering her nose and mouth. She had a machete drawn and in her right hand and a shotgun over her left shoulder.

"Why do you wear that bandana?" Quinn asked, the question she'd been wondering about since Santana pulled it out of her pocket and put it on.

"Machetes are messy," Santana mumbled.

Quinn nodded. That made sense. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the safe-house," Santana state monotonously, never stopping to look at Quinn.

The blonde scanned around them, seeing nothing but the deserted suburban streets. They were eerily quiet. She could see the sun starting its downward trek in the sky. "We'll never make it back before dark."

Only then did Santana stutter step. She paused to look at the sky and she knew Quinn was right. "Fuck," she swung her machete at a nearby shrub, easily slicing it. She took a few calming breaths before shaking her head, "We have to find somewhere for the night."

They walked down the quiet streets, killing few undead intruders on their way. So far, they hadn't found a whole lot of them, which kept Santana on edge. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"What's close to here?" Quinn asked as they continued walking with the sun sinking behind them.

Santana was trying to think. She wanted it to be somewhere they knew. Somewhere that there wouldn't be any surprises. "The only place I can think of is the mall, but there's no way we could secure the entire thing."

"We can get go into one of the small stores and pull down the security gate," Quinn quickly added, a little too excitedly. She felt like this was a good idea. It may redeem her for Santana.

Santana took a peek behind them and calculated in her head how much time they had left. She looked at Quinn and jerked her head, "Let's go. We have to hurry."

They took off in a jog in the direction of the building they knew so well.

Quinn felt so relieved as they neared the main entrance of the mall. She felt like they could make it a safe place for them to wait out the night. She pushed some of her hair out of her face and pulled the glass door open, not hesitating to walk in. Her calm suddenly evaporated, when she felt a frigid hand grip her shoulder in a steely lock.

Her whole body tensed. She could smell the stench of death. She felt it invade her senses and take her over. She couldn't seem to move though. Even if she could move, she knew she was too late. If breath escaped the jaws of the undead, it would have caressed her neck in a hot kiss of death.

Most people say that before you die, you see your life flash before your eyes. Quinn felt nothing. She felt nothingness before what was sure to be the most excruciating pain of her life. She didn't want to look at the one that was going to turn her into a lowly soldier in the undead army that was occupying Lima. She just closed her eyes and waited.

She felt the hand tug on her arm before she was thrown in the opposite direction. She fell into the wall of the small foyer, the hand still locked on her shoulder. The sound of a gunshot echoed in the small space and she finally snapped out of her nothingness. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. She felt the adrenaline that had been blocked by her brain taking her over.

Her eyes darted to the hand on her arm, trailing over the fleshy rotting skin that was starting to slide off of the exposed muscle. She nearly emptied her stomach when she saw that the arm was no longer attached to the body that was lying on the ground. She quickly batted it off with one hand and kicked it away from her with a bone-chilling shudder.

Finally, she looked at Santana who was looking over the now twice dead body to make sure it was actually dead, a pistol in on hand and her beloved machete in the other. "Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded, dusting off the non-existent remnant of her attacker.

Santana firmly nodded once before stepping over the body. "Let's go."

When they stepped inside, they were awash in a faint eerie glow. They both looked up and saw something that neither one had seen in a long time. A florescent light. It was a singular bulb housed in the ceiling.

Santana looked around the ceiling as far as she could see, finding many more like it. She muttered to herself, "It must be emergency lights or something."

Quinn crossed her arms as they continued, taking slow deliberate steps into the store. Santana glanced behind herself and eyed Quinn for a moment. "What are you doing?"

The blonde seemed dazed and finally looked at Santana. "Huh?"

"I know you're shaken up." Santana glanced around them when she heard the telltale signs of more undead inching towards them. "But I need you to stay with me. Get your gun and stay with me."

Quinn nodded. "I'm fine." She pulled her shotgun from its place over her shoulder and tucked it under her arm.

Santana seemed to know that it wasn't the whole truth, but she didn't have time to question Quinn. They needed to get moving.

As they quickly moved through the store, Santana kept a close eye on Quinn. She knew she needed to pay more attention to her surroundings, but she'd be damned if she let anything happen to Quinn. She took control of the group because she was the one with the most practice completely pushing away her feelings. She could strategize, compartmentalize, and organize all at the same time without blinking. So when everyone else was breaking down, Santana took the lead and kept everyone as safe as she could. These people were her family. She was going to protect them at all costs.

She decided that it was best if Quinn was in front. Based on the incident with Puck, Quinn with the shotgun seemed more efficient at the head of the charge.

She placed one hand on Quinn's shoulder, pausing for the momentary jump before following her through the store, keeping her right hand on the blonde's shoulder, her pistol in the other.

Quinn took down two zombies as they came out of the racks of clothes for them, but when they got to the entrance of the store, they both paused. The moans that they heard earlier were magnified. Just as they stood there, in the eerie glow of the emergency lights, they could see zombies crawling all over the mall.

"Son of a bitch," Santana hissed. She quickly looked around and spotted what they were looking for. A small clothing store just a few doors down. She tapped Quinn's shoulder and when the blonde looked, she pressed her finger to her lips. They only way this would work was if they were quiet.

Quinn nodded, and looked to where Santana pointed. They both looked at each other for a brief moment before quickly taking off towards the store. Their footsteps were silent as they moved the thirty meters to the store and ducked inside. The emergency lights, gave them a clear view of the store. Santana negotiated getting the gate down while Quinn cleared the area.

"Fuck," Santana cursed as she pulled at the metal gate, trying to get it down. It was locked into place, so she finally she shoved her razor sharp machete into the lock where the key went. That broke the lock, and she barely had enough time to get out of the way before the gate came crashing down.

"I thought we were supposed to be quiet," Quinn frowned, showing up next to Santana.

Santana shook her head and set her weapons down. "I know. But we need to get this thing locked down." She looked around before dumping over one of the racks of clothes and slipping the bar between the metal grate so that it was held down. She did that with the other side and looked around the store. "We good?"

Quinn nodded. "Nothing here."

Santana peered out the gate. She could see that they had definitely been heard. The zombies were coming in droves toward them. She rattled the gate a little. It seemed like it would hold. She just prayed that it would.

"What are we going to do?" Quinn asked.

When Santana looked at her best friend, there was a definite panic in her eyes. She took a deep breath. "When they gather up, we shoot. They have to be close though. We can't afford to waste ammo."

Quinn nodded. She set down the bag that was over her shoulder and used the ammo inside to reload her shotgun. Santana pulled another clip out of her pocket and checked it before replacing. She was running really low on ammo and she could feel the uncertainty creep up into her stomach.

She shook her head, trying to rid it of all thoughts. They needed to get back to the safehouse. She needed to get back to Brittany.

As the moans got closer, Quinn could feel her hands start to shake harder. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend that she was somewhere else. She was trying to find that place. The nothingness that she felt when she was sure her life was ending. It didn't work. Not when the moans were so loud, echoing off of every surface around them. Her eyes slowly opened. She found that, in the present, she felt everything. She was panicking. She was scared. She was sad. She was angry. She was worried.

"Quinn," Santana called, as she started to fire. The herd was starting to arrive. Quinn sighed and picked up her shotgun, shaking the hair out of her face. "No," Santana stated, picking off one and, if she was lucky, two at a time. "Save that." Santana glanced back at Quinn. "See if there's another way out of here." She paused to aim and fire. "For the morning."

The blonde blinked. Santana seemed so worried earlier and now she was sending her to scout ways to leave for the next day. Quinn had learned that in matters such as this, Santana was usually right, so she shouldered her gun and turned to the back of the store.

Santana turned back to the mass, zeroing in on the one infected person that she recognized. The one that surely would have sent Quinn over the edge. Santana was sure that she had lost her earlier, but now she knew that her friend was on a delicate precipice. Seeing her father, infected and trying to attack them, certainly wouldn't help. Santana pulled the pistol into both of her hands and aimed down the barrel. A second later, what was left of Russell Fabray fell to the ground, completely lifeless.

She figured that it was good that Quinn wasn't dealing with the stress of manning the gate. The hoard was starting to close in as Santana picked off as many as she could. She aimed, her eyes on the foremost zombie when she pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. She cursed under her breath and pulled back the slide to pop out the jammed bullet. She watched it fall down, clinking against the tile of the floor, one more wasted bullet. She raised her gun again and started shooting. She kept careful count of her bullets. She was going to save two - just in case.

Quinn returned to see the mass swarming the metal grate. "Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't need you," Santana cranked off another shot into a zombie's skull, spraying the ones behind them with an orangey-tinted brain matter.

Quinn shoved her shotgun through the grate, into a zombie's mouth, and pulled the trigger.

Santana paused momentarily to check the clip of her gun. She cursed under her breath. One bullet left. With a heavy breath, she shoved the gun into the waistband of her jeans behind her and pulled out her twins.

Occasionally she would look over at Quinn. She'd never doubted Quinn before, but she saw something hollow in the blonde's hazel eyes in the entryway. She never figured Quinn to be one of the ones who was going to give up, but she saw it. She saw the surrender, and it scared the fuck out of her.

But Quinn was steadily blowing holes in the horde with her trusty shotgun now. Santana turned her attention back to the zombies who were reaching for her, bending the metal of the grate with a predatory force.

They hacked and slashed in the glow of the emergency lights until there was a wall of bodies stacked up on the other side of the gate. There were small holes in the grate where a rotting hand had forced through or a machete had jammed against it or the heat of a repeatedly fired shotgun had scorched and even melted the cheap metal.

Santana looked over the gate and huffed. She didn't know if it would survive another attack. She didn't know if they would.

Blaine Anderson here. I'm not sure there's anything left to be said. We're running out of options. We're running low on food and ammunition. Please, if anyone can hear me static need help. Static.

Sam was mad. He was angry. He hated that Santana had lied to him. He was pissed that he fell for it. He was mad that they didn't take more people. He was terrified because they weren't back yet. They were always already back.

So he stood on the roof, the opposite end from the garden and raised his rifle. There had been a small influx of zombies lately so he decided to thin the herd. He picked off one by one until tears clouded his eyes so thickly that when he looked through the scope, he couldn't tell a tree from a walking dead.

Santana leaned back on one of the walls perpendicular to the gate and slid down. It felt so good to be off of her feet that she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get up. There was silence all around them.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said quietly, ejecting the still-smoking shells from her gun and reloading.

Santana tilted her head to the side waiting for Quinn to elaborate.

Quinn was slow and deliberate as she set the gun against the wall and sat down on an overturned clothing rack. "I just thought... I hoped that there was something out there. Maybe my mom made it out okay. She's all I have left."

Santana paused to process the information. Finally she nodded. "I get it. I want to know if my family made it out too, and Brittany prays every night that her sister is okay. We all have families we want to be okay. I think it was good for us to do this. At least we know some people got out. I mean, there would have been a fuckton more on the highway if everyone got wiped out."

There was a pause before Quinn asked, "What were you looking at - when we hit whatever we hit and got the flat tire?"

Santana ducked her head resting it on her knees. "I saw my mom's car. The door was open..." She hadn't cried since the shit hit the fan, and she didn't plan on starting. So she closed her eyes, willing the tears back.

Quinn hesitated, like she wasn't sure if she could get up and sit next to Santana or not. She decided to stay where she was and ask, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Santana stated and jumped to her feet. She walked around the racks scanning the clothes.

"What are you doing?" the blonde scrambled to her feet shouldering her rifle and grabbing the shotgun.

"I'm going to grab some extra clothes. It's fucking freezing outside and we're leaving as soon as the sun comes back up." Santana threw clothes around and picked up one of the shirts, holding it to her chest, "Yeah?"

Quinn shook her head, "Do they have it in red? Powder blue is more of a Brittany color."

Santana pulled the shirt over her head, "Good. I'll give it to her when we get back." She eyed her friend, hoping that she shared the same sentiments about going home.

Puck walked up the stairs, wiping his face with a towel. The sun was going down and he was still worried. Santana and Quinn were still gone. They should have been back hours ago. He got a glass down from the cabinet and walked to the sink with it.

At first, he didn't notice because his mind was on the missing girls, but after a few seconds, he realized that there was no water coming out of the tap, weighing down his glass. He twisted the knob again. Then he tried the other one. "Oh shit."

"Did you find a way out?" Santana finally asked. Her bandana was once again raised over her nose and mouth because of the stench that was coming from the mass of twice dead bodies piled just outside the gate.

Quinn managed to rip a shirt up and use it as a bandana as well. "Oh yeah, there's an air duct in the back. We should probably use that to leave anyway. I don't think that we should climb over that mountain of bodies."

Santana agreed. She finally leaned back against the wall. "You can sleep. I'll keep watch."

Quinn shook her head. She was sure that she wouldn't get any good sleep anyway. "I'm fine. You can sleep."

Santana shook her head. "I can't... I won't be able to."

"Because you can't sleep without... " Quinn hesitated to say the name of one of her dearest friends. She didn't want to upset Santana any more than their little adventure already had.

"Yeah," Santana nodded, smoothing out her ponytail, "I can't sleep without her."

Quinn swallowed and licked her lips, croaking out a soft, "I'm sorry."

This apology, Santana didn't acknowledge. She just stood, picking up one of her machetes. It dangled limply at her side as she walked back to the back of the store, mumbling something about checking the air duct.

Armando was sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. "I have to get out of here."

Burt was examining the joints that held up the barred door. He lifted a little and saw the hinge bow. Then he knelt down looking at the lowest hinge.

"Trying to break out, Burt?" The voice made him jump. He looked up and saw a BTU clad Sue Sylvester standing in front of him with a sub machine gun in her hands.

He quickly stood up, not immediately answering. He took a cleansing breath and a step back. "You can't blame me for trying to get to my kids."

She shook her head, resting the gun against the wall behind her on the ground. She extracted something from her pocket. After looking through the key ring, she inserted one into the lock. "You're right. I can't. I have put more blood, sweat, and hormone secretion into three of those girls than most parents. I'll be damned before I let them get eaten because some pencil pushing bureaucrat is scared." The lock clicked back and she heaved open the cell door. "We're going in."

Burt and Armando weren't going to argue with her. They were free and they were going to stage a rescue.

"Hey," someone else's voice rang through the concrete cell block. "I'm coming too."

"Just who do you think you are?" Sue paused to ask the girl in the cell.

"Lauren Zizes," She stated, sauntering up to the cell door, "And I spent just enough time in that rep-sinking glee club to pump my lungs enough so that if I scream, I'll wake up deaf people in Argentina. That may ruin your escape."

Sue glanced back at the men behind her before looking back at Lauren. The girl rolled her eyes. "I want to help you save them. Don't tell anyone, but I miss them. Especially Puckerman."

Sue took a deep breath, weighing her options. "Fine." She unlocked the cell, "If the truck gets a flat tire you can hold the axle and run by the truck."

"We can't stay here," Mike said quietly.

"Why not?" Rachel asked, speaking for the first time since she found out about Quinn and Santana's scouting mission.

Mike hesitated before looking at his hands that were folded around Tina's on the table, "The panic wiped out the stores. All the drinking water - bottles or otherwise - is gone." The panic - the few hours the people of Lima had before the whole place was overrun with flesh craving shells of the people they once were. "We stayed because we were sure that we were going to be rescued soon. Now we have to leave because the water is gone."

Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair, "We should have known it was going to give out sooner or later. Why didn't we plan for this?"

No one spoke. They all looked around the table at each other, silently asking why they hadn't planned for this.

"Santana did."

All eyes shot to the blonde who had been completely silent and mostly tending to the plants on the roof, not communicating with anyone. Her blue eyes peeked out at them from the safe curtain of her hair. Everyone just watched her breathe until Kurt finally asked, "Well, what is it?"

"The reservoir," she stated, "There's a building there. It used to be a plant or something. But she said moving is dangerous. The zombies would follow us and all of them would know where we were. They'd follow us."

"What other choice do we have?" Mercedes asked.

Uh...hey, I'm Mercedes Jones. We're talking about leaving. Our water went out. Quinn, Santana, girls - you gotta get back here. We're all going crazy here. Static and we need your help. Static.

Santana had nodded off for a split second when she heard the moans start up again. She looked up and saw a single zombie struggling against the gate. His arm was slashed down the side where one of the small links had broken, fracturing into a jagged edge as he pushed his arm in.

Quinn was beginning to rise as well, only managing to sleep a few more minutes than Santana. Santana picked up her machete to take care of this single menace. She didn't move quickly. She wasn't in a hurry. It was just one.

What was left of his designer sneakers squeaked across the ground as he kept pushing against the gate, trying to get at her. With one powerful, well aimed thrust, she pierced the thing under its chin and up through the mouth, easily severing all brain activity from the body.

It fell with a heavy thud. But it wasn't a thud loud enough to cover up the sound of an approaching group. Santana looked over the ratted and torn gate. She knew it wouldn't hold up against another wave. It wasn't made to.

"Quinn!" she barked, "Get up! We have to go."

Brittany had thrown up off of the roof of the garden three times already. She refused to go inside, instead staying in the crescent moonlight by her precious plants.

Santana had once told her that no one could survive for long outside the safe-house. She always insisted that every outing only last for a maximum of 90 minutes. Santana had been gone for almost twelve hours.

Brittany looked over the plants, pulling Santana's jacket tighter around her waist. Santana gave her one job, and she was going to do it. She was going to care for these plants until she forgot everything else.

As they crawled along the air duct, Santana could hear the creaking and groaning, not just of the duct itself, but of the zombies below. When they had scrambled into the duct, they heard the gate finally crash down behind them. They moved along slowly, trying to get out as quickly as they could with minimal noise.

About halfway through the vent, they heard a loud bang. Then another one. Then another. The bangs were moving closer. Santana stopped to look behind them and was frozen by what she saw. The bang, bang, bang was the forearms of a zombie. A black substance leaking from its slack mouth, the skin around its eye was barely hanging on - scraping against the steel of the duct.

Quinn followed Santana eyes and immediately moved. "Santana!" She screamed. "Go!"

That was all it took. Santana started scrambling forward with Quinn behind her, but as she was moving, Quinn slipped, her sweaty palm sliding out from under her on the stainless steel vent, sending her crashing face first.

"Santana!" Quinn screeched. She felt a cold hand wrap around her ankle. This time, she fought. She kicked and screamed. She flailed, trying to get away.

Acting on instinct, Santana flipped on her back and grabbed Quinn under her arm with her right hand, essentially pulling the girl on top her, then picking up the shotgun strapped to Quinn's back with her left hand. She cranked off one shot. That was all it took. Tissues and brain matter were scattered all over the duct that now resembled swiss cheese.

Quinn wailed as her leg was pierced by a few rouge BBs. Santana was less worried about the blood trickling out of Quinn's leg and more about the loud snaps she was hearing. Suddenly the vent snapped. Their combined weight along with the holes caused by the shotgun had pulled apart the vent in the middle. One end of the section they were in dropped, the other end acting like a hinge. It was like a trash chute, ready to dump them out into a pit of flesh eating zombies.

Santana looked around them, looking for something – anything - to grab on to. Anything to keep them from falling. She could already hear them, and a few seconds later, she could see them - gathering a few feet under the mouth of the duct, ready to be fed.

Quinn clung to Santana, mumbling something about not wanting to die, mixed with prayers and sobbing.

Santana tried to calm her. She told her that she would protect her. She would save her. She didn't tell Quinn how she planned on doing this. She just pulled the pistol from the back of her pants. She didn't have to check the gun to remember that there was only one bullet left.

Then the vent gave way and they fell. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Santana felt the wind get knocked out of her as her back met the ground. She felt the crack of her head against the concrete floor below. She felt Quinn crash down on top of her making her feel like she couldn't breathe.

They landed a few feet from the hoard, but that only bought them mere seconds. As Santana cocked the gun, she felt an undead hand grip her ponytail, pulling her towards its waiting mouth. She saw Quinn's eyes grow wide with terror, watching what was behind Santana.

But Santana never looked back. She tossed the gun to Quinn and reached behind her, gripping the handle of her machete. She whipped it out of the sheath, cutting off the hand that was gripping her hair along with the part of her ponytail it was holding. They may have been out numbered, cornered and about to die, but she was Santana Motherfucking Lopez, and she wasn't going to die without taking a few of those fuckers with her.

_This is Tina Cohen-Chang. We're going to move. Our water supply is gone. We're heading to the Lima Resevoir. **Static** We're leaving tomorrow. Santana, Quinn - if you're out there and can hear us, we'll wait for you as long as we can... Be careful. **Static.**_

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to get out of Puck's grasp. "No!" She was screaming at him -at all of them. "I'm not leaving until Santana gets back!" She tried to grab onto anything to keep him from pulling her out the door. The gunfire downstairs was getting louder. An influx of zombies, more than they'd seen since they arrived, was causing their hastier than planned exit.

He finally let go of her waist and threw her over his shoulder, "Damn it Brittany! You're going to get us all killed. We have to go now!"

"Leave me here!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. It was a deafening, heartbreaking screech. "I can't go without her!"

He threw her into the back of the SUV, standing in her way so she couldn't get out. The gunfire in the enclosed garage bounced off of the concrete walls, but wasn't as deafening as his answer, "She's not coming back!"

For a moment, it seemed like the whole place went silent as Brittany stared into Puck's watering eyes.

"We have to go!" Sam yelled, picking off one last soldier in the front lines of an undead army.

Puck shook his head, looking away from Brittany. He closed her door and jumped in the driver's seat, calling out to Sam and Blaine, "Let's go!"

Sam dove into the passenger's seat of the truck while Blaine got into the back of the SUV. Puck hit the gas, rolling over and through a wall of zombies.

Brittany stared numbly out the window as they moved on. Santana promised to never leave her. She promised to protect her and take care of her. And now she was gone. Brittany crumbled into herself, her sobs yanking on the hearts of everyone in the car.

Kurt pulled Brittany to him, holding her as she completely lost it.

As the neared the east side of the town, something seemed off. Finn rolled down his window and heaved himself up to sit in the window. "What happened?" he asked no one in particular.

All eyes went out the window as Puck slowed the SUV down. Splintered wooden planks and chunks of concrete lay strewn all over the place. Once proud houses looked like crumbling relics. Cars were overturned and trees were uprooted. Puck and Mercedes pulled to a stop on the side of a once suburban street.

When Puck slid out of the driver's seat, his feet landed in a stream of water, channeling down the street. It encased his ankles in a chilly bath.

Sam said something to Mercedes and kissed her before sliding out of his seat to meet Puck. He nodded, "What happened?"

Puck looked around with a shrug. Whatever happened though, he didn't like it. It felt ominous and dangerous. He looked to Finn who was looking past the rubble. "There's a tree and a car in the middle of the road up there. We're going to have to go around."

The boys nodded to each other. As Sam walked back to the truck, he looked into the third seat of the suv. He couldn't see her but he knew Rachel was back there, red-eyed and puffy faced. He gave her a small nod and got back into the truck.

Their detour got longer and longer as chunks of houses and landscape hindered their path. Puck drove over what he was sure used to be a house. Finally, he made it out onto a muddy field that he didn't remember ever being part of Lima.

"Where are we?" he asked, leaning forward to get a better look. He put the SUV into four wheel drive as the mud turned into watery clay.

"You guys," Tina looked around. She paused and cleared her throat. "I think we're in the middle of the reservoir."

The realization washed over everyone and Puck slowed down. Mercedes pulled up next to them. Sam's window was down and Puck rolled down his window as well.

"Dude, we're in the reservoir," he stated.

Puck nodded.

"What do we do now?" Finn asked, looking around both of the cars. No one seemed to have an answer for him.

"There are some ponds at the golf course," Mercedes offered, "If it hasn't washed away."

Finn sat down in his seat and stepped out of the vehicle. He shook his head. "It probably did. It's in that neighborhood over there." He pointed to the devastation where they had just come from.

"The dam must have broken," Mike shook his head. "That's why our water went out." He ruffled his hair and sighed. "Shit."

Sam opened his door. "Let's stay here for a few minutes. Get our shit together. Then we can move out. We can see all around us here."

Everyone agreed and got out of their seats except for Brittany and Rachel. The blonde sat in the middle seat and Rachel in the third seat behind her. They both had their arms wrapped around themselves, numb looks coated their faces.

Kurt offered to break out some of the food they brought, but no one was really hungry. They didn't have any water to wash it down with anyway. Puck, Mike, Tina, and Blaine sat on the tailgate of the truck, quietly discussing what to do next.

Kurt opened the door by Brittany and stood next to her. He picked up her hand and just held it there, balanced on her leg. On the other side, Finn opened the door. He folded down the seat and crawled into the third seat with Rachel even though it cramped his large frame. He just sat there, waiting, until she fell into him, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

They stayed, standing around the middle of the reservoir for another hour. Finn had set Artie on the back of the truck so he could send out a quick transmission. Just as he was about to flip it off, he heard something. It was a voice. It was broken and static-filled. There were only random nonsensical blurbs, but it was a voice.

Everyone was silent as the incoming transmission crackled and hissed. They all tried to pick out words or phrases. Anything at all would be a welcome change in the silence that usually came from the radio. But as they listened, the noises got shorter before finally fading into static.

The group let out a collective breath. The voice did, however, manage to get Brittany and Rachel out of the car for the same reason everyone listened so intently - they hoped that it was Santana and Quinn.

Brittany started to get back into the car when a crash sounded in the distance. She stood on the running board of the SUV, straining to see what it was. She didn't want to give up hope. She wanted it to be Santana. The noise got louder, and it was now easily recognizable. It was an engine.

A large hummer came into view along the edge of where the reservoir used to be. It made a sharp turn into the mud and roared towards them. Sam, Mike, Tina and Puck adjusted their weapons under their arms. It swerved to a stop about thirty yards from them. The back door flew open, and Burt Hummel jumped out. Finn and Kurt ran to him, even Blaine got pulled into a group hug. The second Lauren's booted foot hit the mud, Puck ran to her, throwing his arms around her.

Armando searched the group, his eyes frantically bouncing from face to face. Finally, his eyes found Brittany's. It took about a minute of a locked gaze for him to register why he couldn't find his sister. He shook his head as tears started to roll down his face. "No, Britt. She's...No. No. No."

Brittany couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She walked over to Armando and let him fold her into his arms. She held onto him, wishing harder than she ever had that Santana was here. She shifted her feet in the mud and buried her face into his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt. They stood there, mourning together for the loss of the most important girl in their lives.

Sue stepped onto the slushy clay and surveyed the group. There were two girls missing who were very important to her. Her rarely moved heart was crushed, but she tried not to show it. She did one more scan to make sure she hadn't missed anyone. She put her hands on her hips when she was sure. Santana and Quinn were gone.

"Coach S-Sylvester?" Rachel sniffled. She used her sleeve to wipe her perpetually wet cheeks. "I-I know Quinn was very important to you..." Rachel had to fight to keep her voice from breaking. Her face was twisted in the hopeless battle. "I- I'm sorry for you loss." After that, she gave up trying to save face. She managed to keep going, her voice shaking violently. "She was important to me too." Rachel broke down in a sob and Sue didn't hesitate to take the short girl in her arms. Truth be told, she needed someone to hang onto as well.

Everyone questioned Burt, Sue, and Lauren about who survived and where they'd been. Burt explained the most, telling everyone that they were basically set up in massive army tents a few towns over. He didn't know exactly who had survived and who hadn't. He'd been in lock up for a while. Sue wouldn't say and Lauren didn't want anyone crying until they got back.

Burt rubbed his chin and looked around, his arm not leaving Kurt's shoulders. "We should get out of here. We're about to have some unexpected company." He nodded to one of the horizons. A few zombies were clumsily walking toward them, tripping and sometimes falling in the muddy surface. They were slow moving, but they were still advancing.

All eyes turned to Brittany and Armando who had yet to move. They hadn't moved from each other's arms since they started crying together.

Sue walked over to them. "Hey," she placed a hand on each of their shoulders, "We have to get out of here." She paused solemnly, "She'd want you to go on."

Brittany was the first to pull away, trying to put on a brave front for her coach, but she was failing. She wanted to stay with Armando, so she got into the back of the hummer with him. There was some shuffling in the vehicles. Lauren took the front passenger's seat next to Puck who took the wheel of the SUV. Burt sat next to Kurt behind him and Finn sat on the other side with Blaine, Mike, and Tina in the backseat. Sam and Mercedes got back into the truck and Rachel sat shotgun next to Sue.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Puck said, turning the key.

Sam had to pump the gas a little to get the truck started, but he took Mercedes' hand and threw her a smile before taking off after the hummer and the SUV. They were getting the fuck out of this hell. He couldn't wait to sleep soundly for the first time in way too long.

Brittany was lying across the back seat of the hummer, head in Armando's lap. He looked out the window, wishing he could have gotten here sooner. He was convinced that if he had gotten out faster, he could have saved his sister. He could have kept her from doing something stupid or being the hero he was sure she was. He could have saved her.

Rachel stared out the window, numbly watching what was left of the reservoir disappear. She pressed her face against the window as the hummer rattled along. It was cool to the touch when her whole body felt like she was burning up. She didn't even try to hide the tears on her face. She didn't care what she looked like. Quinn was gone.

She watched as the SUV pulled in front of them, taking the lead. Then she watched Sam and Mercedes jump in front of them as Sue waved them past.

Just as soon as there was enough room between the back of Sam's truck and the front of the hummer, Sue jerked the wheel to the right.

"What are you doing?" Rachel squealed, grabbing the handle over her head as they swerved. Sue hit the gas and drove into the bumpy median.

"I didn't come back all this way and earn myself a court marshall to go back without..." she paused to lick her lips. "I can't go back without knowing for sure."

Rachel looked down at her hands. She knew that this just might be denial or some wild hope that Quinn and Santana managed to survive in a town infested with zombies by themselves. She also wanted to hope. She wanted it so bad. She glanced in the backseat to see Armando and Brittany scanning out of both of the windows for any sign. She knew that Armando held the same wild hope that Sue did. That he would find Santana in the same state he left her.

But Rachel...for as much hope as she had before this hell, she had none. She wanted to hope. She wanted it so bad, but she'd watched the zombies' unrelenting hunger. She knew that there was no electricity in the town. She knew that there was nowhere really safe. She'd been there. She'd lived in that state of hell for weeks.

Then she looked at Brittany. She didn't know if the blonde could handle seeing Santana if she wasn't alive anymore. She didn't know if Brittany would distinguish or even care if Santana had been turned.

This was a bad idea. She just knew it.

"Where did you last see them?" Sue asked, "What direction were they heading in?"

Rachel hesitated before answering. She took a long breath. "I didn't see. Sam was the only one who saw them leave."

So Sue started talking to herself. "They're smart so they'd stay on the main roads. More visibility." She jerked the wheel to the left, hopping onto the grassy shoulder of the main road through the middle of the town. "And we're going to stay on this road. I bet they went west."

"Why do you think that?" Rachel asked.

"I know them," she stated and hit the gas.

"Uh Captain?" Armando said from the backseat, "Everyone is following us."

Sue nodded firmly, "Good. I don't have enough weapons in here."

As soon as they got to a place in the road that was almost empty, Puck pulled up next to Sue, and Lauren rolled down her window and yelled, "Where are you going?"

"We're going to get Q and S," Sue slipped into her familiar nicknames for her all-time favorite Cheerios.

"They're gone," Puck called back to her, glancing between her and the road.

She shook her head, "You don't know that for sure. You should all be ashamed of yourselves because you were going to leave them here without knowing."

Puck swallowed. "Alright fine. We have half a tank of gas. Lead the way."

Sue nodded, "We're heading west. Try not to get too far behind."

Puck nodded, a hopeless nod. She knew that he thought they were wasting time. She knew that they had all seen atrocities that she could only imagine, but she had something that they didn't have. Their hope had waned the longer they were left to die in Lima, but she had hope, and she was going to hang onto it for dear life.

"Do you really think they're... Still alive?" Armando asked Sue from the backseat.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she vaguely shrugged. She wasn't sure. The odds were definitely stacked against her former Cheerios - heavily stacked, but she had to know.

They caravanned on the main highway. They were quickly running out of Lima to look through. Everyone's eyes were combing the streets and buildings for any sign of the girls.

Sue was about to let go of her hope because they weren't going to have enough daylight or gas to get out of Lima if they didn't turn around soon. They had reached a particularly packed part of the highway, so she was navigating through the car littered median when Rachel gasped. "Look!" She pointed out her window at the Lima Center Mall.

A flaming bottle arced across the sky. It shattered, drenching a mob of zombies in a blanket of fire. But they didn't stop. As their flesh burned, falling off and completely melting, they kept moving. It was a horrifying sight to see zombies coming at you, but these were on fire. It was more terrifying than anything any of them had ever seen.

Finally, a pair of people came into view. It took a second, but Sue recognized both Santana and Quinn. Santana had Quinn's arm around her shoulders as the blonde limped away from the approaching mass. They were moving slowly - slower than some of their zombie counterparts.

Sue gunned the engine and exited the highway over a grassy embankment, heading toward the girls. She could see that Santana was helping Quinn up on the top of a car while she unsheathed her machetes.

Sue revved the engine hoping that the girls would see her and start to make their way over. She didn't hesitate to ram cars out of the way. She looked up at Quinn who had seen her by now and was trying to get Santana's attention.

The brunette took the few paces away from the group she was battling away from Quinn and lit another bottle. This time she threw it at the ground in front of them in an attempt to get the zombies to slow down. She needed to get Quinn out of there, and it was fucking hard when her friend only had one good leg and no weapons

"Santana!" she heard Quinn yell over the crash of the Molotov she had just thrown and the moans of the zombies as they passed through the flames. She looked behind her and saw Quinn pointing. She followed her finger and saw a hummer barreling towards them. In the front seat, she could make out Coach Sylvester.

"Santana!" Quinn yelled again. This time Quinn pointed in the other direction. Flames had licked up the tires of the cars and was engulfing them. The zombies that were on fire were moving more quickly than before.

Santana turned and started running. She ran to the car Quinn was standing on and helped her down, throwing her arm over her shoulders and taking off. Quinn was struggling to run away with Santana helping her.

"They're getting closer!" Rachel screamed.

Sue thrust a machine rifle into Rachel's hands. "Shoot."

Rachel took a moment to look at the gun in her hands. She wasn't ever one of the best shots, but Quinn and Santana were in trouble. She rolled down the window, rested the gun on the rail on top of the hummer and took aim.

They hit a bump and Brittany barely grabbed onto Rachel's shirt fast enough to keep her from falling out the window as she took the first shot. She tried to remember everything Quinn and Sam had taught her. She tried to throw it all into practice.

A few of the zombies were dropping their flaming bodies, sending a sickening stench in the air, but they were still moving quickly towards them.

The door to the hummer opened as they were slow to push a large SUV out of the way. Armando sprinted across the parking lot, hurdling over cars toward his sister and her friend.

"Armando," Santana breathed out as she struggled across the lot. She'd never been so happy to see her brother before.

Just as he was nearing them, there was a loud hissing noise followed by a flash of light quickly followed by a deafening bang. A wave of heat rushed at their backs, blowing them forward.

Santana barely registered Armando helping her to her feet. "C'mon 'Tana, we gotta go. You gotta get up. Hurry."

She blinked and pushed herself to her knees. There was an airy dizziness in her head. She could feel a warm liquid dripping down her face. She wiped at it, and her knees almost gave out when she saw her own blood coating her hand. She placed her hand on a car that was next to her, figuring that that was what she hit her head on and rose to her feet.

"Quinn," she remembered that her best friend was with her. She saw Armando helping the blonde to her feet. She limped for a second, glancing behind them.

Santana followed her eyes. The zombies were pouring out of the mall behind her. There had to be hundreds walking towards her. Her stomach fell to the pavement. They had just beat insurmountable odds to be thrown into an unwinnable fight.

So she didn't fight. She was going to run. She hurried to Quinn's side, taking her arm and throwing it over her shoulders, feeling Armando do the same on the other side of her. They each grabbed one of Quinn's legs and took off, walking – almost jogging – as fast as they could away from the mass that was swelling behind them.

There were more bangs, but they were farther off as car batteries exploded and gas tanks caught fire. As the ringing in their ears subsided, they could hear gunfire.

Ahead of them, they could see Puck and Sam running towards them, guns in hand. Puck handed Santana the gun in his hand and took over carrying Quinn.

Santana turned around to start shooting, but became overwhelmed at the sheer volume. She wavered for a moment, her head throbbing. She pulled her bandana from around her neck up over her face and around her forehead to keep the blood from running into her eyes. She raised the rifle and started firing. They just needed enough of a buffer zone to get Quinn in one of the cars and get the fuck out of there. So she stood next to Sam firing at the edge of the first wave, mowing down as many as she could before she heard someone yelling for her.

She turned to see Brittany standing next to the hummer where Quinn was now sitting in the front seat with Sue and Rachel. Brittany had the back door open, standing next to the hummer and calling to them. She could see Puck, running to get back into the SUV they had used before.

Sam turned with her and they ran for their separate cars, Sam diving into the truck with Mercedes and Santana hopping into the hummer next to Brittany.

Sue hit the gas and fishtailed, turning away from the mall and towards the highway.

Before Brittany could even touch Santana, Rachel turned back in the seat, a tearful face. "Her – her ankle is getting... infected. Can you...look at it?"

"There's a first aid kit under the seat," Sue said, nervously checking the rear view mirror.

Brittany reached under the seat for the first aid kit and Santana looked behind them. She scanned behind them and saw what Sue was looking at as the hummer subtly slowed down.

"Guys," Mike looked behind them. "I can't see the truck."

Puck pulled to a stop. Sue noticed that Puck had stopped and pulled to a stop as well. Puck quickly jumped on top of the SUV. He looked through the sea of cars. As soon as he saw them, he grabbed a shotgun and ran toward them. "Finn, let's go!" He didn't think he'd ever run that fast in his life. He saw Sam helping Mercedes onto the top of the truck as they were swarmed by zombies. The hood of the truck was smoking as it sat still on the access road.

Sam was cranking off shots into the crowd trying to keep Mercedes behind him. He kept looking around, wondering why no one had seen them stop. Then he heard shotgun rounds. He saw Puck and Finn advancing towards them, shoulder to shoulder. Both of them shot with a precision and synchronization that only best friends could possess.

Then he heard something he wasn't used to hearing. Automatic gunfire. Mercedes was the only one who looked around. Sam was trying valiantly to keep the zombies off of their ankles. Puck and Finn were coming up on the left side and Sue was coming on the right, a machine gun in her hands.

Armando was now behind the wheel of the Hummer, pushing towards them with the hummer's grill. Burt was right behind Armando, driving the SUV.

The zombies were now crawling up onto the bed of the truck towards Sam and Mercedes. He pointed his gun at the closest one and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He pulled it again and his stomach sank. He was out of shells.

He took the butt of the gun and swung it at one of the zombies, knocking it in the head, causing it to fall. There were so many though. He tried valiantly to keep the zombies away from Mercedes, batting at them with the heavy butt of the gun. Mercedes felt an undead hand pull at her pant leg and screamed. She looked down, trying to kick it off, to fight away the mouth that was hungry for her. It was just too strong. It was pulling her down.

She grabbed onto Sam, trying to keep her balance - trying anything to keep herself from falling. Just as Sam was about to hit the zombie with the gun, the mouth that used to be reaching for her was gone. The whole head of the zombie was gone. The hand that was gripping her pants was now limply falling to the ground with the rest of the body.

She looked up, expecting to see Puck or Finn or Sue. She didn't see anyone close enough to do that. Then another head exploded as Sam was about to hit it away. He looked up and finally saw who was shooting.

Quinn was standing on top of the hummer, her eyes behind the scope of a rifle. She pulled the trigger, dropping another zombie that was reaching for them. She pulled the trigger and another head exploded next to them. The bullet pierced the truck they were standing on, but it didn't matter as long as she was picking off the zombies.

He looked away from Quinn when he saw another familiar figure running down the hill towards them, machetes drawn. Santana's new, shorter hair rippled behind her as she sprinted right towards the hoard of zombies, trying to get to Sam and Mercedes.

She hacked and slashed her way towards them, thrusting and swinging, making her way to the truck. She hopped up on top of the truck, next to Mercedes.

"What's the plan?" Sam asked, swinging the gun, catching what was once a woman under the chin, sending her head flying off into the windshield of the car.

"Give me a minute," Santana stated, glancing behind them to where Puck, Finn and Sue were shooting as they moved forward to them.

"We're stuck," Mercedes quietly cried, watching Sam and Santana try to keep the zombies from them. The zombies kept coming no matter how many heads flew or rolled to the ground or exploded, more just took their place.

The hummer was ramming its way towards them, and it was getting closer, but Santana knew it wasn't making much headway. Plus, as soon as they got close, the hummer would be swarmed. So she looked around the truck and jumped down.

"Santana!" Sam yelled after her. He saw Santana start swinging her machetes around, trying to fend off the starving masses. As soon as she saw a break between waves, she ran away from the truck, drawing the zombies that she could with her. She'd watched them enough to know that they always went for the easy kill and, right then, she was far easier to access than Sam and Mercedes.

"Santana!" she could hear Brittany shriek from behind her. She knew that this was dangerous, but she was going to keep them safe. She was going to keep them all safe. If the hummer got too close, it would have been covered, and Brittany and Armando were in there. She couldn't have that. So she sprinted away from them, her machetes in her hands. She ran off the highway, towards the field next to the mall, drawing most of the zombies to her.

The grass was brown and dead, crunching under her feet. She remembered running through this field with Brittany when they were younger. They'd run and laugh until they couldn't breathe and then fall into the grass. It used to be taken care of, the grass kept a plush green. Now it was brown and dead and crunching under her feet.

When she felt she had gotten enough distance, she turned around. There were zombies pouring towards her, crushing the dead grass into a flat dust. She readjusted her grip on her machetes. There was no way she could take them on.

She reached up and fingered the silver heart around her neck, remembering Brittany. She remembered her smile and her laugh. She remembered the first time they kissed. She remembered the first time she held Brittany's hand, walking through the school. She remembered how Brittany looked in her arms the night after their first time. She remembered all the love in her eyes.

Rachel and Quinn both had to fight to keep hold of Brittany who was trying to run after Santana. None of them saw Armando get out of the backseat and slide into the driver's seat. He turned over the engine and threw it into drive. He was going after his sister.

"Hey!" Sue yelled as she heard her hummer take off without her. "Stop!" She turned to see Sam and Mercedes run over to Puck and Finn. She ran to join them in the SUV.

Sam and Mercedes crammed into the SUV with everyone else, and Finn hopped in the passenger's seat. Puck and Sue stood on the running boards, holding onto the ski rack on top as Burt pulled the SUV away from the zombies mass.

"What are you doing?" Rachel demanded of Armando as he pulled onto a dirt road next to the field.

Armando looked from the road to the field as he overtook the front line of zombies moving towards Santana. Then she veered to the right, off of the road behind her. "Brittany, you're going to have to open the door."

The blonde nodded, moving to the right side of the backseat. She opened the door a little and watched as they neared Santana. Her girlfriend was running away again, this time her machetes in the sheaths strapped to her back.

This time, when Santana dove into the hummer, it was right on top of Brittany, slamming the door shut behind her. Armando hit the gas and pulled a u-turn, heading back towards the dirt road.

"Fuck," Santana panted trying to catch her breath. "Took you long enough." She dropped her head on Brittany's chest.

"Your head," Brittany whispered, pulling the bandana off of her head. She could see the large gash along Santana's hairline where the blood had started to congeal trying to heal itself. She ran her fingers through Santana's newly shortened hair

"I'm fine," Santana ran her fingers through her now shortened hair, "Did you get to look at Q's leg?"

Brittany shook her head and looked at the other blonde in the front seat. Quinn took a deep breath, "I'll be okay until we catch up to the others."

Brittany nodded, turning back to Santana. Tears flooded her eyes. Words could not describe how relieved she was.

When Armando pulled onto the main road, the SUV pulled up behind them. Once they were a ways away from the zombies, both cars pulled off to the side of the road.

Sue scolded Armando for taking the hummer which was government property, but he was too busy hugging his sister to notice. Sue got back into the driver's seat and Armando sat in between Sue and Finn, who volunteered to ride with them. Puck and Lauren were sitting in the cargo area behind the backseat.

Brittany, Santana, Rachel and Quinn were squeezing into the backseat. Brittany, who was sitting against a window, had a pair of tweezers and a small pocket knife, trying to carefully extract some BBs that were still in Quinn's foot. Quinn was sitting on Rachel's lap, her leg stretch over Santana so her foot could rest in Brittany's lap.

"How did you get all those in your foot?" Rachel asked quietly, seeing the excruciating pain Quinn was in, but wanting to know.

"I shot her," Santana stated, taking Quinn's hand. She caught the eyes of her friend and silently apologized.

"It was completely necessary," Quinn added, squeezing her hand as Brittany pulled another BB out and dropped it into the lid of the first aid box that Lauren was holding for her.

Everyone was a little skeptical, but no one asked. They knew that the two girls had been through an ordeal, and they didn't want to ask for fear of upsetting them. They knew that they're learn the whole story in due time.

Santana looked up and saw Sue's icy eyes on her in the rearview mirror. She swore she saw a tear run down her Coach's face before the older woman looked away to focus on the road.

She looked back at Puck who hadn't stopped looking at her since she got in the car. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he smirked, rolling his eyes at himself. He reached over the seat and patted her on the shoulder. That was all she needed to know that he missed her and had feared that he'd never see her again.

There were armed guards outside the gates of the base. They were all told to get out of their vehicles over a megaphone. They all did as they were told, Rachel and Santana on either side of Quinn.

As soon as Sue stepped foot back onto base, she was escorted to her commanding officer's office. She shot a smile to the kids that were all huddled together. "I'll be fine." She assured them.

They filed through the small fenced area that served as the primary screening point. Once they were all checked over, they were herded into a cinder block building.

The remaining members of New Directions and their family were placed into containment for sterilization and observation. They were all showered, disinfected, undressed, redressed, examined and locked in a room with a bunch of bunk beds and MREs.

They wouldn't be allowed to leave for twenty-four hours and see their families which kept them on edge but still more relaxed than when they were in Lima.

"What happened to you two?" Rachel asked as she, Quinn, Brittany, and Santana sat on one of the twin beds. The rest of the kids and their family were sitting around them listening. Quinn's ankle was wrapped in a bandage, resting on a pillow at the edge of the bed.

"We, um," Santana started when Quinn didn't. "We were pretty far out of town when we got a flat. We stayed the night in the mall. It was..." She shakes her head. "We locked ourselves in one of the stores with the security gate. Then we used the air duct to leave...but one of them followed us." She reached over and grabbed Quinn's hand, not moving out of Brittany's arms. "I shot in the duct and it broke. We fell into a...warehouse."

"Is that all what all those bruises are from?" Brittany asked quietly.

She was referring to Santana's bruised torso that was cause for a few worried looks from her fellow glee club members in the decontamination showers and her extra long medical examination. Santana nodded.

"We were cornered," Quinn took over because Santana didn't seem to want to talk anymore. "We had one bullet left and a couple shells in my shotgun. There were so many...But Santana..." She let out a knowing smile for her best friend. "She took both of her machetes out and just...she fought. So I fought and we...we made it."

That was the first night they all were allowed to sleep at the same time in weeks. Of course, that didn't mean that they all did.

For the first time since the whole ordeal started, Santana was crying. Tears poured out of her eyes as Brittany held her, kissing and comforting her in every way she could think of. In her heart, she was glad that Santana was finally showing some vulnerability. She was finally letting down her stone cold leader face and was being a teenager that was left in a zombie infested wasteland.

It had been a few hours since Santana had cried herself to sleep when the door to the bunk room opened. Santana flew out of the bed, reaching towards her back for her machetes. Of course, they weren't there. They were in a lab somewhere, being scraped for DNA. It's not like she needed them though.

Sue Sylvester had walked into the room, wearing the same sweatpants and t-shirt the rest of them were wearing. When she realized that, the adrenaline wore off and crushing pain settled in on her chest. She wrapped an arm around her core and leaned against the nearest wall.

Sue saw her in the overhead lights that all of the New Directions' kids begged the personnel to leave on. She rushed over to Santana. The noise of the door opening had awoken more than just Santana. In fact, everyone in the room was now awake, either awoken by the door or by the person next to them reaching for a weapon that wasn't there anymore.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Santana gritted through her teeth. Sue helped her carefully lay back down next to Brittany.

"You get some sleep. There are hundreds of highly trained soldiers standing guard, keeping us safe," Sue told Santana. She was trying to sound matter-of-fact but some warmth was seeping into her voice. "You don't have to be on high alert anymore."

Santana nodded as best she could, turning stiffly into Brittany. The blonde cradled Santana in her arms, careful not to touch the areas where she knew her girlfriend was injured.

Even though many of them couldn't sleep a whole lot, it was the best sleep they had gotten in a long time.


End file.
